


Late Night Calls

by Nerdwithapen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, The Void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdwithapen/pseuds/Nerdwithapen
Summary: While Gaster is trapped in the Void, he does have a few methods of communicating...though Sans wished he didn't. || Short Drabble ||
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Late Night Calls

“ˢ ᵃ —﹖” 

He hated answering the phone whenever it rang three times, then twice, then four.

“— ᶰ ˢ﹖”

It was always in that order. That pattern. 

“ˢ ᵃ ᴺ—ᶰ⋅⋅⋅﹖”

And there was never, no matter how hard he tried, anything he could do to stop it. 

“ᴺ—ˢ—ᴬ ᴺ—ᶰ⋅⋅⋅”

It was so stupid. It wasn’t like he could _help_. 

“ˢ ᴬ ᶰ⋅⋅⋅” 

He hadn’t been able to before; why would things be any different now? 

“ᶰ⋅⋅⋅”

But the phone would just keep ringing. 

“ᵃᶰˢ⋅⋅⋅—ᴬᴺˢ⋅⋅⋅”

And ringing. 

“ˢ⋅⋅⋅ᴬ⋅⋅⋅ᵃ⋅⋅⋅”

And ringing.   


“ᵃ⋅⋅⋅ᶰ⋅⋅⋅ˢ ᵃ ᵃ⋅⋅⋅﹖”

Until he finally gave in and answered it. 

“hey, g.” Sans sat on his bed, skull held in a bony hand as he hunched over himself, resigned to listen to the distorted voice that spoke through his speakers. 

“⋅⋅⋅ᶜᵒ—ᶜᴼ⋅⋅⋅”

“i know. you’re cold.” He closed his sockets. Felt his tone gentle away from the slight irritation it had held before. “i know.” 

“ᴬ ᶰ⋅⋅⋅ᶰ⋅⋅⋅” 

“i can’t help.” 

“ˢ ᵃ—ˢ ᴬ—”

“ _i can’t._ you know that.” 

There was the sound of something choked, but Sans never could place what it was exactly. He took a breath, slow, and let his shoulders deflate with its release. “…m’sorry.” 

Another choke. It sounded closer to a whine, this time. 

“if i could, i would, but i’m…just go to sleep. ok?” 

“⋅⋅⋅ˢ⋅⋅⋅ᶰ⋅⋅⋅”

“ _go to sleep,_ g. you’ll feel better.”

“ᶰ⋅⋅⋅ᶜᵒ⋅⋅⋅”

“ **enough.** ” His sockets snapped open, glaring at the phone as though he could stare through it, passed it, something, _anything_. “it’s time to sleep. go to sleep. no more talking. y’understand?”

There was static. A grumble. Some sort of huffing that Sans wasn’t entirely sure he heard correctly but then, finally, the line disconnected. The strange emptiness was replaced by silence, _true silence_ , and the voice on the other end no longer spoke through cheap plastic speakers. 

He waited. Sometimes the calls were back to back, on bad nights. 

Nothing happened. 

Sans set his phone down. Stared at it. Felt its weight crushing him, but— it was fine. Tried to keep his thoughts quiet. Tried to not think of being cold, and alone, and of having one damn lifeline that ended up being _useless_. Pushed back the blurry vision that threatened to fill his sockets. 

It was fine. 

He turned off his phone, but in the end, turned it back on. Sans set it facing downwards on the floor, and went to sleep. 

Maybe it’d make him feel better. 


End file.
